Daily Prayer

Tuesday, 31 May 2005

From today’s New Zealand Herald [originally published in the UK's Observer], this

”History shows that true innovation has disappeared from our society…”

But the sheer lack of fundamental innovation now may explain the tenacity of traditional religion, and why contemporary art seems so flat, banal and repetitive, why television and movies are obsessed with safe repeats (such as Star Wars) and feel-good endings (Bridget Jones, Love Actually) and why fiction, as John Banville commented recently, is likewise lacking in edge.

Monday, 30 May 2005

A couple of days ago I mentioned that Alan Jamieson responded to a question of mine by telling the story of a (Northern) Rata tree. He saw new expressions of church; new explorations and experiments in being church in today’s world as being the beginnings of a new tree. He talked of the new and the existing as being profoundly necessary for the other. He wondered if existing congregations (“rata trees”) were up to the challenge of nurturing, protecting, encouraging, and resourcing new expressions and ways of being church (“seedlings” & “young rata trees”). He talked of the alternative: the existing growing old and dying with nothing to replace it. He talked of the alternative: lone expressions of church starting from scratch together with all the ‘dangers’ and challenges that that entails.

Alan talked of the new being messy, but wondered if ultimately it was worth it for existing congregations and denominations to work through that phase; to stick with it despite the mess.

Northern rata (Metrosideros robusta) is a tree up to 30 m tall or more. The trunk looks rather like that of a pohutukawa and is commonly up to 2 m in diameter…The tree usually starts as a windblown seed lodged in decaying humus and leaf litter accumulated in the branch and trunk hollows of a large old tree.

From there it sends roots down to the ground where it finds additional nutrition. The rata also sends “clasping” roots around the trunk of the supporting tree for extra security. Eventually the roots all join up to form one single trunk. This takes considerable time and by this time the host tree will probably have died of old age, leaving a hollow on the inside of the rata trunk.

Sunday, 29 May 2005

The day with Alan Jamieson was a rich one. It enriched my reading of his book, Churchless Faith when it was published in 2000. The opportunity to interact with him by way of questions was wonderfully clarifying. Alan has a lovely way of teaching and real warmth in his interactions.

Great group of people too and the chance, albeit sadly a small opportunity, to interact with other persons doing the workshop was excellent; the chance to share the experience with two good friends from Cambridge, as was the chance to reconnect with people I hadn’t seen for a while. There was also an opportunity to meet some wonderful new people, particularly the chance to meet Martin for the first time after a brief e-mail exchange earlier in the year.

The day was spent reflecting on the stages of faith development (both in an individual and a congregational sense), cultural change, and the implications of both on how we might be church. Further, it helped me better understand my journey, the length of time it took me to leave my former congregation (approx. 2-years out of the 8) and the reason’s why I needed to leave.

It nourished my dreams and desires for the future.

I enjoyed interacting with research on church leavers and the spirituality of the unchurched. David Hay’s work in particular seemed to resonate so I made and extra effort to pull out the following paper (from my pile of unread papers) by David and read it. Linked below in case you want to have a read as well.

“My guess is that in reality there has been no great change over the past few years in the frequency with which people encounter the spiritual dimension of their lives. What is probably changing is people's sense of the degree of social permission for such experience. Somehow or other (perhaps through the influence of postmodernism) there is a growing feeling that it is acceptable to admit to such awareness, though it is still something most people feel quite deeply embarrassed about…”

Some aspects of personal faith

“TimidityPeople are very timid when it comes to talking about religion. Nevertheless, we feel now that we were too conservative in insisting that those we spoke with ought at least to claim to be either spiritual or religious. Almost anybody who didn't go to church would have been suitable. All those we spoke to, without exception, had an easily recognizable personal faith, though it was characteristic of most research conversations that this only became clear towards the end, when it was felt safe to do so. Quite often as the person sensed that the conversation was coming to a close, they would ask us about our own beliefs and experience. By this point it had become sufficiently obvious that we were not intending either to criticise or to convert them. A simple and honest response in terms of our personal religious life often led to a further and vivid account of experience on the part of those with whom we were in conversation. But the necessary precursor for this was absolute clarity that we were researchers, not evangelists…”

Saturday, 28 May 2005

"The popularity of New Spiritualities is due in part to the secular form the church has adopted. Indeed, the church has much to learn from the ways these new spiritualities form their way of life. Globalization means that I need to take our missional mandate seriously and...end of the practice of valorizing one culture over another. " Ryan Bolger.

And let us be careful that we do not reify "postmodernism" and mistakenly think no metanarratives exist in new spiritualities. Phil Johnson

Phil's is an important voice, and his perspective is much needed by those of us wrestling with missiology and ways of being church in Post-Christendom countries such as New Zealand.

Friday, 27 May 2005

Tonight I went to hear Alan Jamieson deliver the 2005 Houchen lecture. Great to see and hear him first hand. Good turnout, including the Anglican Bishop (the Anglican’s were hosting Alan). I asked one of the questions I blogged about here. I wanted to know how graying congregations might open themselves to dialogue, conversation and change – dialogue and conversation with younger persons, like me, lamenting that denominations like Anglicanism are custodians of wonderful stories, spiritual resources, rich traditions (i.e. they have a breadth and a depth that I value) but they are closed to conversation and resistant to change even as their members age and congregations die (unintentionally).

Alan responded with a story and a hope that leaders would become courageous (would, as Jonny Baker recently wrote, get “balls” – Alan didn’t say that, but I thought it and was grateful to Jonny).

Alan’s story was the story of a New Zealand rata tree; a story I first came across when Steve Taylor told it to me (see his book, The Out of Bounds Church? Page ___ / Just looked through his book; I couldn’t find it – that could be because it’s 10.41pm and I’m tired, or an early telling of it in a draft chapter didn’t make it into the final publication). Perhaps Steve could tell the story again (or point me to the page in his book) on his Out of Bounds blog…? And I could add a footnote linking to it later. It’s a great story; a story about how existing congregations can resource, encourage, and nourish change, innovation, and experimentation.

Also met a great couple "D" and "J" who spent 5-years at Regent College (something I once dreamed of doing) when Eugene Peterson was there. Good to chat, to get to know a little of their story, their questions, and their dreams for the future. We had lot's in common too. Excited by their passion. Excellent!

I off again tomorrow to a workshop with Alan. Looking forward to it; a smaller group and hopefuly a chance to interact with him.

Update (29/05/05):One of the problems of reading too much is that you sometimes can't remember where you read things. Steve Taylor corrects my thinking, i.e. the story wasn't in his book. It was in an essay he'd written. He gives the web address in the comment below. Thanks Steve.

Thursday, 26 May 2005

To my way of thinking “new,” “neo,” or “nu” monasticism is about simplicity; it is about faithfulness, not trendiness; it won't feature on the cover of Business Week; it is small and obscure; it is participation in the missio Dei; it is about embodying the radical nature of the gospel and bearing witness, particularly within the abandoned and marginal places within our cities and wider communities, to Jesus’ historical and ongoing mission, evocatively articulated in gospel passages such as Luke 4 and Jesus’ sermon on the Mount.

New variations on monasticism are about incarnating the gospel amongst those who are not like us. They are about peace making and justice. They’re about the enacting of faithfulness, compassion, mercy, hopefulness, and above all love. They are about effecting the Kingdom of God in the power of the Spirit. They are not privatised ventures in self-indulgence or only inwardness. Rather, they maintain a healthy tension between what Michel de Certeau calls “lived practice, a provocative presence-in-the-world expressed in the age-old tension between discipleship (following), and conversion (change).” Faithful expressions of new monasticism need to be both “mystical” (i.e. contemplative) and “prophetic” (leading to and engaged in “transformative practice”).

Wednesday, 25 May 2005

The quotes below convey something of the significance of “place” and location for my prayer-life, which is ultimately my relationship with our triune God. In addition my prayer-life is informed, resourced, and nourished within this land, Aotearoa New Zealand – the land, its remoteness, its mountain and ‘desert’ landscape, its coastlines, and its ocean. The rugged West coast of the South Island and also that of the north are significant places of consolation and contemplative prayer for me. The greenness of this land, Celtic spirituality, and Hildegard of Bingen’s (1098-1179) notion of Veriditas “…usually translated 'greenness' or 'greening'… For Hildegard, viriditas seems to refer to the principle of vitality that is at work in all of creation. God breathed viriditas into Adam and Eve at their creation. It fills the season of spring and "causes the grasses to laugh with the joy of life". Yet viriditas is equally the Spirit of God at work in us bringing spiritual life and renewal. 'Greening' was her way of speaking about the creativity and fruitfulness of a human being fully alive and in harmony with the purposes of God…” [i] For me green represents exuberant life – abundant life. It represents the “greening” of my life and my aliveness to God, self, and other human beings. To pray deeply and exuberantly is to live deeply and exuberantly. Further, the importance of the “landscape” (it could easily have been a suburban or “urban-scape”) is not a displacement of the centrality of God, but is rather an assertion that my prayer life, my God-ward life is not a retreat from the world, but an encounter within the everydayness of the world, my world.

“‘Only those people who know where they come from, where they belong, are safe to travel.’ So said an Indian acquaintance of mine of the many westerners in search of a home in the mystic Orient. If that insight is true of outer travel, it is equally so of the inner, spiritual; journey. Yet, how difficult it is for so many of us to know our place, our context, or, at least to take it seriously and have it taken seriously by others as the bedrock of our spiritual quest. How difficult, in other words, to believe oneself to be saved in the world or truly to pray ‘in our place’…”[ii]

“Our spiritual journey, our relationship with God, is so often about admitting that I am displaced and about discovering where I am placed by God, where is my place. For the follower of Jesus my place will be in the world, my world, for Jesus has chosen our world, my world, to be his place also…We can come to know him only by embracing who we are where we are. That is where he is. He chose this world, my world, to be the only place he could reveal God to us” [iii]

Monday, 23 May 2005

“…[T] he early Church is, I believe, more helpful to us today than the great church of Christendom -- the Church of Christian Europe and America to which everyone belongs. We are far more likely to learn things that are useful for our life and mission from Justin Martyr than from Thomas Aquinas or John Calvin…”

Many of us have already come across and interacted with research work on “Christian Initiation” produced by Mennonite Alan Kreider. It’s provocative. I’ve come back to it recently as it still fascinates me. I have not being able to discount the notion of Christians as “resident aliens.”

My thinking continues to be shaped by Alan Roxburgh and the idea conveyed by Steve Collins diagram (see out right); specifically the relationship between a covenanted/committed core at the heart of a church community, catechumenate’s, spiritual “tourist’s” (thinking here of the metaphor Steve Taylor develops in his helpful book, The Out of Bounds Church?). The notion of “resident aliens,” both distinct, but also deeply involved (in very practical ways) in God’s love for and redemptive work within the world. So, for me, “resident aliens” does not mean “ghetto”; it refers to the distinctiveness that is evident when a community embodies (lives into) and lives out of the Gospel in the world, for the sake of the world.

Further this notion of a distinct and covenanted core lies at the heart of how I intend to develop a proposal for a new monastic community; a ‘new’ ecclesiology and understanding of church and it’s practice. ‘New’ is really a misnomer because for me it’s more a contemporary understanding that emerges from a deep understanding of “desert spirituality” and the history of monasticism. It is not intended that this will be a “pick n’ mix” exercise – take a bit from here, a bit from there, and in the process ultimately “pillage” a rich tradition; rather it is an attempt to honour the tradition in a very contemporary way. Ultimately, I’m more than comfortable with dropping the term “monastic” if that proves to be unhelpful. The last thing I want to be is “trendy”; I want to be authentic, innovative, and (paradoxically, some might think) faithful with regards to the received Christian traditions.

Sunday, 22 May 2005

“One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, "Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.” (Lk. 11:1)

I’ve been reflecting this week on how praying is seldom taught within the context of church; how little the question is heard of asked, “teach us to pray;” despite prayer being so central to Jesus’ life. I've reflected upn how I've both learnt to pray and actually pray. I’ve wondered how I would respond if someone actually asked me, “Paul, teach me to pray.” Would they ask me? Why me? Where would you start? How would you introduce the depth, the breadth, and the richness of our Christian prayer traditions; from intercession to contemplation to liturgical prayer…and so on? How would you nurture and encourage the desire to explore beyond the superficial? How would you teach prayer as silence? As attentiveness?

The Prayer Tree by cartoonist Michael Leunig makes my list of books that “teach me to pray.” I love the introduction to this book:” The person contemplates the tree…We imagine our way inwards and downwards…the tree sends down its roots beneath the surface, seeking nourishment in the dark soil: the rich ‘broken down’ matter of life…A person kneels to contemplate a tree and to reflect upon the troubles and joys of life. The person imagines mornings and evening in a great forest of prayers, swarming and teeming with life. The person is learning how to pray.”

Leunig’s introduction and cartoons/prayers say so much about prayer. I love the everyday nature and ordinariness of his praying, e.g. “Dear God, we give thanks for earthworms…; We give thanks for our friends…; God bless those who suffer from the common cold…; God bless the lone tunnellers…We give thanks for the mystery of hair…” I love the paradox: prayer is both simple and complex (not in the sense of being complicated; but rather in the sense that there is always more to prayer than we often see, feel, or more generally experience).

How might you respond to the question:”________________, can you please teach me to pray…”

Saturday, 14 May 2005

Thanks to Bob Carlton for directing me to Richard Rohr’s Male Spirituality website. Rohr’s essay, Masculine Spirituality was particularly useful, and goes a long way, in my mind, to helping respond to some of the questions I raised in my previous post. Interested too in a Phil Johnsoncomment in relation to EC and women being marginalized. I think the EC observation is a valid one Phil. The place of and role of women has been an ongoing topic of much debate within EC circles. See Rachelle (here and here) and Richard Sudslaw for comment on EC and women (the comments on Richard's post are useful too). I think though that the contemporary absence of distinctly masculine approaches to prayer, spiritual direction, spiritual formation, and Christian spirituality more generally is a different issue. Phil, I’m not sure whether this absence is repeated in so-called New Age spirituality circles (you’d know better than I) but it seems to me that Rohr’s observations in the paper mentioned above are more than likely to be true of males more generally. Rohr’s article and appended interview (particularly) are well worth a read. Here are a few quotes:

Women have been encouraged and even forced to work on their inner life more than men in our culture…Their inner journeys have left many of us men in the dust.

He is trapped inside the false masculine…

A masculine spirituality would emphasize action over theory, service to the human community over religious discussions, speaking the truth over social graces, and doing justice over looking nice.Without a complementary masculine, spirituality becomes overly feminine (which is really a false feminine!)and characterized by too much inwardness, preoccupation with relationships, a morass of unclarified feeling, and endless self-protectiveness.

In my humble masculine opinion, I believe much of the modern, sophisticated church is swirling in this false feminine.

…men aren’t inclined toward the interior, they tend to move in that direction only when they are stretched or called or forced by circumstances.

I need to read some more Rohr so that I can get a better handle on his thinking.